Secret Liberation
by Spunkalovely
Summary: She hates that the more she holds onto the memory, the more it slips away.


Alice Longbottom imagines that this was what it feels like to be underwater. There is so much information but she can't move fast enough to reach it before it floats away. Her mind feels frightfully blank and terribly full all at the same time.

She is at a park. It's beautiful. The leaves look as if they have caramelized, the sun glints off of them showing off their golden colors. The breeze steals the leaves off their branches and swept them through the air. Someone clears their throat. It sounds familiar. She turns to face the person who made the offending noise. Kind, loving eyes. The whisper of a foreignly familiar name echoes in her ears before the memory flits away.

She feels like she should know the stranger who always seems to be with her. Something aches inside of her when she observes him. She does not know what goes on in his mind, she gets the impression he looks infinitely inward instead out at the world. She wonders what he thinks of her, or if he even notices her existence. Garbled words always fight their way out of her mouth but always on her tongue is the sentence 'I love you.' What does that even mean, she wonders. Love. It was so short. Only three words. No frills, nothing to distract from its meaning and purpose. It must be awfully important. She whispers it to herself when she believes no one can hear her, puzzling to herself what on earth it could mean like eventually if she said it enough times it would simply tell her what it means. She wishes it was that easy.

There's a boy and an old woman who comes to see her quite frequently. The boy always brings sweets. Alice discovers she favors the gum he presents her. She wishes she had something to give back to him. She often tries to give him the gum wrappers. The old woman seems to disapprove, her tone is always seems a bit harsh. The boy, despite the disappointment flickering through his features, gives her a sad looking smile and accepts the wrapper reverently. She is attached to the boy for reasons she cannot figure out. She wishes she knew this boy, she wishes she could hold him and protect him. But he always leaves with that old woman before she can dissect her words clearly enough to announce what she feels. She feels an odd mixture of happiness and warmth when she sees him.

The bed is warm and cozy. She feels as if she has not rested for months yet she knows it has only been a week. They warned her of this. She cannot tell who is 'they' and what the warned her of exactly. She lifts herself from her quilt's embrace and braves the freezing bedroom. Somehow she knows that it shouldn't be so cold naturally in August but it is familiar. Annoying but slightly comforting. She trudges down the halls to the source of the wailing. She walks to the crib and despite the loud protests of discomfort from the infant inside of it she can't fight the grin that finds its way to her face.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

Alice often wishes with every fiber of her being that she could go back to that August night. She clings to the fragmented memory, yearning to relive it in her head - just one more time. But it's always 'just one more time.' She is addicted to the feeling she gets when she remembers this. She hates that the more she holds onto the memory, the more it slips away. She misses the feeling of smiling. In private she tries to emulate the expression. It never feels quite right. She wishes she could say a magic word and be able to do it. Abracadabra. Information spilled into her conciousness like she was reading from a text book.

Abracadabra. Let this thing be destroyed. Used in ancient Aramaic times. Originally used to cure illness. Avada Kedavra.

She is lying on a cold stone surface. She can feel nothing but pain radiate from every pore of her body. A very small part of her wishes desperately to give this evil woman above her all the information she needs. A larger part wants to plead for death. But the largest piece of herself refuses- no, let her give her the worst. She will never break to her. The second piece cries two very strange words. Avada Kedavra. The piece chants these two words as a prayer. A sweet salvation. She does not know where it leads but she trusts in these words to save her. The words taste so bitter but hold such tantalizing potential and promise. She wants to follow these words. She would follow anything anywhere just to escape this agony.

These words puzzle her just as much as the three words that come to her when she looks at her constant companion. Alice mourns when her companion ceases to wake up. Her feelings intensify with an agony she doesn't truly understand. The boy continues to grow with a slew of visits. When he enters he is full of life, as she watches him go still struggling with words she notices a little piece of his happiness seems to have chipped off. The old woman stopped coming. While Alice doesn't understand who she was she still regrets her absence.

After her companion's passing the days become increasingly empty. She curls in the comfort of her broken memories more and more.

She follows a man through a wooded area. She gets the distinct feeling that they are not supposed to be there which heightens her excitement. Each time he looks over his shoulder to ensure she is still there and grins at her she can feel her heart beat increasingly faster. She enjoys this euphoric feeling. Something large and warm takes her hand as they find a stop. The sun is warm and inviting. The memory begins to fade and she can feel the familiar white room surround her once more. She clings to the precious phantom. The man seems to be her silent companion. He smiles at her and leans forward to say something in her ear.

"I love you," he says quietly. The words swirl with the two forbidden words she doesn't know the meaning of either. Avada Kedavra. She feels like they are both a secret liberation, the most hidden of freedoms. She follows the words through a blinding light into a sea of memories she could finally understand.

She never returned to the room with blank walls and her beloved boy who always brought her sweets.


End file.
